


One For The Money

by TauntedOctopi



Series: One For The Money [1]
Category: Altered Carbon (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Biting, Canon-Typical Violence, Creampie, Drug Use, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Very Little Plot, Sex Work, Shameless Smut, Smut, Softcore Porn, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TauntedOctopi/pseuds/TauntedOctopi
Summary: The Raven's only non synthetic sex worker gets up close and personal with the establishment's newest resident.Essentially PWP.
Relationships: Takeshi Kovacs/Original Female Character(s)
Series: One For The Money [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881004
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	One For The Money

If she was honest, it was a brilliant idea. Nobody stayed in the AI hotels anymore. Nobody. It made the perfect place to bring her clients, private, secure, off the grid.  
The Raven wasn't the first, but it was her favourite. Especially with the recent arrival of its second guest in fifty years.  
An Envoy who'd been on ice for two and a half centuries. Older than her, then, much older, and far more jaded about this world. The things he would have seen.

She wasn't particularly interested in his stories. Not yet. Not when he'd come swaggering in offering to pay the highest price for the best services in the house.

Not when Poe had almost cheerfully pointed him right in her direction. The only non synthetic in the place.   
Somehow she doubted he wanted someone to make small talk with, what with his commentary about the stamina of the recently resleeved as he'd paid an extortionate amount of money to Poe for his stay. 

This was her third sleeve, if she remembered correctly. Although she was around sixty five, technically, this sleeve was no older than her mid twenties. Like her usual preference, she was average height, closer to curvy than slim, a dangerously amused glint in her eyes. 

This sleeve's eyes were pale blue, the hair a light caramel, not quite gold, not quite brown. Attractive enough, but not superficially so. She had kept her name, the one given to her in her first sleeve at birth. It was impossibly difficult to change one's name nowadays, unless you were filthy rich. It made it difficult to keep track of people, otherwise. Nobody cared much about a top end ground level whore. She was a nobody, just the way she liked it. 

Haley Vira was a nobody. No great dreams, no great interest in becoming one of the Meths. She just wanted to live out her extended life as comfortable and as isolated as possible. Sex sold, it paid well in a time when most people would get hold of an AI hooker and be done with it. As a non synthetic, she was worth more. 

Clearly, the new guest at the Raven seemed to think so, too. 

After the noise and extreme amount of mess with which he had made his arrival, Haley had returned to her room to dress herself up, giving the new guest some time to clean himself up. She doubted he'd want a guest covered in blood and all messed up as he was. 

She dressed in blue, pale, with a white stripe down the far too low neckline of the dress, her hair falling around her shoulders in gentle waves. The housewife fantasy look, she called this sleeve. Impossibly innocent and deceiving. 

Her original sleeve had been murdered. She had been a simple bartender, then when sex had been a side job. Too pretty for her own good, perhaps. Or maybe she'd simply erred on the wrong side of judgement.   
Her second sleeve had learnt better. Saving money, learning how to defend herself, how to kill if necessary.   
Only to die in a fucking terrorist attack. 

This sleeve was better. Soft, unassuming. Easily overlooked, if one was looking for anything other than a quick fuck. Or a longer fuck.   
So far she wasn't sure which basket this newcomer fell into. Knowing that he was a fresh resleeve, she was willing to firmly drop him in the second basket. 

Poe ever so cheerfully sent a message to her ocular implant, the annoying little thing that everyone seemed to have now, to inform her that the newcomer would, in fact, like if it she would deign to hurry up. She couldn't say she was too offended by the mannerism. It was outdated, perhaps, but she was no wallflower. 

Having thoroughly explored the building during her time of occupancy, Haley made her way to the penthouse suite, where her esteemed client awaited. 

\---

As soon as she walked, hell, sauntered, through the doors, Kovacs wondered if he should regret the decision to go with the one living, non synthetic woman in the building. 

No doubt Poe could have summoned up any and every possible woman he could imagine, right down to specifics. Going with an organic seemed like a risk. Especially one who seemed as soft as her.

He watched her approach him from his place on the couch, glass of liquor half raised as he watched her toe off her shoes. 

"Drink?" he spoke finally, eyes roaming her up and down. Maybe she wasn't what he'd have put into an AI, but she wasn't unpleasant to look at. 

Shorter than him, though that wasn't hard. Strikingly pale blue eyes. Unusual caramel hair that looked far too soft for a place like this. 

She helped herself to a glass from the decanter. 

"I didn't get a specification rundown. All you told Poe was quiet, so..." 

He understood her dress choice all of a sudden. 

"So you took it to mean submissive wife type?" 

"I figured you just meant you didn't want someone mouthing off back at you." 

"Something like that." He downed his drink, watched her watching him. After a moment, she broke her gaze, finished her own drink. 

"So.." 

"What's your name?" 

"Haley." She was about to ask for his, but didn't get a chance before he cut her off. 

"So, Haley, what am I paying you for?"   
Technically, it was what was his new boss paying her for, but still. 

"Whatever you like." That much was true. She moved from her place by the table to him, leaving the glass and her shoes behind. 

He stood to meet her halfway, amused slightly by how tall this sleeve was compared to her. 

"Whatever I like?" He wasn't drunk, not yet, but still had a cocktail of drugs coursing through his system. And besides, she was pretty. Pretty and being paid to fuck him however he liked. Even if he wasn't going back on ice, he deserved a little debauchery before getting to work. 

"Well. With the exception of murder. I'll cut your stack out before you even manage to try, mister..." 

Somehow, hearing such a violent comment from someone so dressed up and pretty as her amused him. 

"Careful, little girl. You wouldn't want to threaten the wrong man." It was only a light tease; he could see in her gaze, something fierce. This girl, Haley, had survived before. "Takeshi Kovacs." He added, at the last moment. It just seemed rude not to give her at least his name in return. 

"Are you paying me to banter?" She countered, her fingers toying with the buttons of his expensive shirt. She wanted to comment on his name, but it seemed too intimate. 

"Definitely not." 

"I didn't think so." Her fingers got to work on the buttons, blue eyes watching him, daring him to say anything. He didn't, just watched her strip the shirt from his torso, smirking slightly at the way her eyes roamed. 

"Aren't you supposed to be a professional?" Amusement filled his tone. Yes, this sleeve was attractive. Entirely the wrong race, too tall, too bulky, but attractive nonetheless. 

"I am. Entirely professional. And human." 

He rolled his eyes, twisted his hand into that impossibly soft looking hair, and dragged her into a kiss. The impulse was too strong to simply avoid. Even on ice, the body produced hormones. Which meant, when one was resleeved, their libido was almost insatiable. Almost. 

If Kovacs was honest, he liked the way she kissed. Her mouth was soft, eager and warm against his, letting his tongue explore at leisure while her hands roamed, making short work of the clothing on his lower half before moving to help get rid of her own. 

He pulled back for a moment to admire her as she removed her underclothes, a rose gold little set that would have probably looked nice, had he wanted to admire it on her. As it was, he was much more interested in what was under them, pulling her right back against him and guiding them back to the couch, sitting himself comfortably and pulling her into his lap. 

He was content for a moment just sitting there, kissing her again, feeling her grinding herself lightly against his hardened cock. Yes, there was no doubt she knew what she was doing, but he wasn't going to give into her that easily. 

He amused himself by trailing his fingers around her breasts, pinching a dusky nipple between two fingers and smirking at the little squeak she made when he did.   
Without speaking, he bent his head to the other, sucking the little nub into his mouth, enjoying the soft moan from her when his tongue trailed the skin.   
After a moment, he released her. 

"On your knees." 

She slid from his lap obediently, settled herself between his legs. He didn't need to give her further directions, leaning his head back against the couch, eyes half closed as he felt the warmth of her breath against his inner thigh, then the delicate touch of the tip of her tongue trailing the head of his cock. 

Two hundred and fifty fucking years since he'd had his cock sucked, and he was almost tempted to admit it was worth it for this. A glance down showed him her blue eyes watching him with amusement, those pouty lips enveloping his cock, her hand wrapped lightly around what she couldn't take. 

He huffed a low groan of approval, resting a hand in her hair. Even if he came right now, he'd still last all night at this rate. Still, it seemed a little impolite, even if she was a whore. With that in mind, he pulled out of her mouth with a low grunt. 

"I'd ask where you learned how to do that, but -" 

"But you won't like the answer." She licked her lips delicately, getting to her feet.

"Doubtful. Stay there." He stood too, pulling her into another kiss, enjoying the taste of himself on her tongue. Himself. His sleeve, anyway. Regardless, he liked the taste, liked the way she moaned into his mouth when he slid a finger inside her. It would be simply rude not to give her any sort of preparation; he wasn't small, and he knew it. 

With one hand, he hoisted her up, letting her wrap her arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist.   
Keeping a firm grip on her, he slid another finger inside her wetness, curling and stroking. When she moaned again, he gave up all intent of making it to the bed, instead pressing her up against the nearest wall. 

If Haley objected, she said nothing, kissing him hungrily, almost whining when he withdrew his fingers from her.   
Any complaint she might have had was silenced with a warning look from Kovacs, his now free hand adjusting his grip on her, holding her nice and tight as he guided himself into her soaked cunt. 

She moaned loudly when he entered her, sliding fully home with one slow, deep thrust. Chipped painted nails lightly pierced the skin of his shoulders as he held himself there, buried inside her, giving her a moment to adjust to him. 

"Good?" He knew from her glazed eyes that she was no longer in pain, but after so fucking long, he just wanted his ego fed a little. 

"Yes.." Her gasp was drawn out as her nails dug into his skin further; he ground his hips against hers, not thrusting, just pressing himself into her, reminding her just how deep he was inside her. 

"More?" he was almost impressed by his own self control. The need to be a tease outweighed his raging hormones, just by a little. 

"God, fuck, yes..." Her hands settled in his hair instead, her moan desperate as her legs tightened round his waist. 

Laughing low in his chest, he tightened his grip on her, pressing her firmly against the wall, bracing himself with one hand as he started to set a pace, pulling almost entirely out of her then slamming back in, grinding, teasing, and repeat. He left kisses, bite marks, little bruises, on her lips, her throat, her shoulders. When he sucked her nipples she cried out, her toes curling against his ass as she tightened around him again and again. 

There was seemingly no end to his lust, the desire that coursed through him a pent up release of years of hormonal build up. At least she was a valuable, adequate accomplice to take it out on. He lost count of how many times she came around him after the first two, smug in the knowledge that she wasn't faking it, not with him, not with his enthusiasm and stamina, not with the way she pulled on his hair and practically soaked his cock every time. 

At some point, they moved from the wall to the bed; somewhere between her fifth and seventh climax, he finally felt himself getting close himself. 

"You got an implant or something?" He felt oddly out of place all of a sudden, even here; implants had been the standard contraception in his time. 

If she found it odd, she didn't comment, instead, hazily pointing to the patch affixed to her wrist. 

"Patch."

"Yeah, I can see that." Feeling foolish for not having noticed it before, he returned his mouth to hers for a moment, until the ache in his balls and the tingle in his gut was far too prominent to ignore. 

"Gonna -" 

"Inside?" She wasn't sure if it was a question, or a request. Neither was he, for that matter, but he didn't care either way. He'd had no plans on pulling out of her unless she was unprotected. Even then, he suspected his new boss would be more than happy to pay up for any little accidents he might cause. 

He didn't answer, just tightened his hand on her waist, the other in the sheets of the bed as he finally found release, a seemingly endless wash of pleasure coursing his body, filling her with the product of his release. 

He pulled out of her after a moment, sated after what he suspected had been hours. Clearly, he hadn't been kidding about the stamina.

She gave a little sigh of pleasure and exhaustion as he sat up, stretched, watched his release leak out of the young woman onto the sheets. 

"Fuck, what a mess.." He ran his fingers through sweat damp hair, only pausing when she made to sit up.

"Want me to -?" she inclined her head to the door. 

"Can you even stand right now?" He raised an eyebrow as she made an attempt to do so, wobbling slightly and ending up right back on her ass in his bed. "Didn't think so." 

"I'm sorry," She was embarrassed, this had never happened with any client before. 

"Don't apologise. I worked you too hard." He lay back on the bed beside her, fishing on the side table for a cigarette and a matchbox. 

"Mm." She wasn't complaining, and neither was her bank account. Hell, he'd paid her so well the fuck could have been average and she'd have been happy. Mind blowing passionate sex had not been on the cards. 

"Sleep here. You can't walk and I'm not carrying you after the day I've had. You can go back to your own room in the morning." 

It was uncharacteristically kind of him, but as cold as he could be, Kovacs wasn't a complete asshole. Besides, he was a little hazy himself from the endorphin release. Let the girl who'd helped with that sleep here. It was, after all, his fault she couldn't walk. 

"Hey, Mister Kovacs?"

"Tak is fine." Inhale. 

"Tak, then?" 

"Yeah?" he exhaled tobacco. 

"Pretty sure you're my new favourite client." 

He laughed. 

"Yeah, I bet I am. Don't worry, I'm definitely planning on doing business again." 

She gave a little hum of satisfaction, curling her soft body against his chest, eyes heavy. Maybe it was the drugs, the endorphins, or just the sheer fucked up state of his day, but he didn't push her away. 

Definitely, he thought, he definitely planned on doing business with her again.


End file.
